Fiery Disposition
by The Hive Beast
Summary: It is the job of no mere man for an expedition to a world, especially a world where everything could be out to kill you, a world where a blank eyed god could be out to cut your throat, but this is no mere man. This is a man of fire, and of forged blood and steel in the furnaces of darkness.
1. The Arrival

An expedition, that what the Elders had called it. On his own, kicked from the Hell he called home. His eyes glowed bright yellow with the rage of this. He had been lied to. This was no expedition, this was a mosh pit of things that wanted to kill him. His name was Havock, and he was a Daemon, from the fiery depths of a land called Hellfire, a land that many didn't believe existed. He had been thrown into the world with only his trusted red gunblade.

The world he had been thrown into was full of grass and trees. His hooves stomped down the fresh grass as he trudged through seemingly unending plains, apparently looking for a Daemon artifact. He had already spent a night in this world, and the armies of the night, who had only once besieged the blazing land of Hellfire, came in their hundreds for him, like he was an old enemy who had forgotten his place, and was standing in the territory of his enemies.

This, he had found out, had been true. The horror, the mad creature that killed an entire patrol of Daemons in the Overworld, killing them in a matter of minutes. He had heard the tape over an over, and made sure he never forgot what the creature had been named. The name in its self was not at all terrifying, after all, what is scary about a salty saviour? That was often a nervous joke amongst the less powerful Daemons, before they were warned about their foolishness. No, the name Herobrine was of no fear to him, but the blank eyed, blank souled, heartless beast behind the name did bring the inch of fear into his heart of stone.

Of course, according to the fateful and much accursed prophecy, he equalled the monster in power. Havock did not believe this, as he had never had any powers as such. In fact, his dead brother once had that role, before he was slain in battle. Still though, strangely, his soul called from this world. Sometimes, Havock would stop and just think whether he could rescue him.

But, as he wore on through the monotonous plains, many things tumbled through his head, each less significant than the last, till eventually, he gave up. Shelter was his main objective. Food would be easy enough to acquire, but shelter was often a large problem. He knew so from other expeditioners to this land called the 'Overworld'. Finally, he saw the depressingly single design landscape break away into several other 'biomes'.

He saw a swampy landscape from his position of the low plain hill, and looking deeper, saw a Witch's Hut by the river. It was occupied, the Witch bustling inside creating her foul potions. He would take it by force then. With blade or flame, would he take it for himself.


	2. Night-Time Fires

Night was falling fast. The rays of astounding colors spread like wildfire across the sky, emblazoning it in a final light, before it was extinguished as the sun fell below the horizon. Havock had found very quickly that he had to adapt. Drawing his gunblades, he found himself suddenly being swarmed by damned mobs. The undead groaned as they came at him from all sides. He fought quickly, guns blazing as the heads of zombies were blown away in an explosion of crimson gore splattering the ground. Havock bounced upwards with a large jump and used his amazing acrobatic finesse to flip over a zombie, before plunging his bladed gun into its chest and blowing it away with the strength of a shotgun.

He didn't stop for a moment, no, he kept fighting as he jumped, span and kicked his way through the crowd of undead. A skeleton raised its bow but he hurled his gunblade and carved its bow in half. Weaponless, two zombies seized and opportunity and lurched at him. He punched one in the chest, before delivering a sheerly angled hoof to the neck, snapping its head to lie with its shoulder blades. The zombie still moved on and he punched it in the chest with a fist as fast and strong as a swinging sledgehammer. As blood poured from the open wound, he grabbed its ribs from the inside of its chest, and ripped outwards, tearing out its ribcage, before stabbing it through the head with the broken set of bones. The zombie fell down, dead once again. Havock felt a smack to the back of his head as a zombie managed to get in close, and he turned out and grabbed its arms, before tearing them off with the sound of wet tearing paper.

Blood poured as the zombie wobbled even closer, before Havock drove a hoof through its head with a lightning fast power kick. Slamming the ex-undead creature back into the ground it came from, he drove it into the ground up to its hips. Then he used it as a springboard, bouncing off its shoulders and boosting off its caved in head. He flew towards the skeleton that rattled angrily and swung a bony fist. Havock was thrown sideways by its surprising strength. Getting up, he stumbled, the raw ache of pain dazing him. He was tripped by the skeleton who as he fell, grabbed him by the neck and lifted him up in the air. As the dead choke grip tightened, black spots began to form in front of Havock's eyes.

No, he wouldn't be ended by so basic an opponent. He grabbed its skull and tightened his grip, before unleashing a burst of daemonic flame straight into the reanimated mind of the skeletal warrior. It screeched and fell back, flames rippling from its eye sockets. Havock laughed as he was dropped, and he relished the moment as he walked towards the screaming skeleton. He grabbed its arm bones, and snapped them off, before driving them into its vertebrae. Then, he shattered its ribcage, grabbed the back of its frame, and heated it to pliable malleable temperature, then dragged it forwards, inverting the body of the skeleton, as it cooled. The skeleton was locked in a dirty white cage of its own body.

Havock panted triumphantly, and picked up his gunblade. Just as he was about to put it away he heard a hiss directly behind him. Then more hisses. For the few seconds of his reaction, he spun around and was hurled into the air by a huge explosion, breaking several bones in his body. As he swiveled over the edge of consciousness, the last thing he saw was a laughing, bright eyed, but completely blank eyed face. He roared "NO!" but the edges of black swallowed him as he plummeted downwards.


End file.
